


Alternate Universe Fills

by shaneequa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5163929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaneequa/pseuds/shaneequa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1 - "Your cat keeps getting into my house and I don’t even know how would you care to explain’ AU"<br/>2 - " Drunk dialed/ texted ex/ crush oh hell"</p><p>Picking random AU prompts from this Tumblr prompts post and writing them out: http://agentsofpuppies.tumblr.com/post/132497726644/guess-who-loves-aus</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Picking random AU prompts from this Tumblr prompts post: http://agentsofpuppies.tumblr.com/post/132497726644/guess-who-loves-aus
> 
> Hope you all enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything, nor affiliated with Marvel or Disney.

_Your cat keeps getting into my house and I don’t even know how would you care to explain’ AU_

Natasha just finished pouring herself a glass of wine as she waited for her Chinese to be delivered when someone knocked on her door. She checked her phone for the time and frowned. She had ordered about five minutes ago, there should be no way that they would get her food to her that fast; Tim, the delivery guy, took about fifteen minutes to deliver.

Cautiously, she walked to the door and stood on her toes to peek through, the frown on her face increasing as she was met with a stranger on the other side.

“I have your cat!” the man on the other side exclaimed.

Natasha opened the door slowly to the size of a fist, meeting the man’s eyes, her eyebrows raised.

“The super told me he’s your cat?” he explained showing her the small cat that he was holding in her hands. “Don’t know how he got in my apartment…”

“Liho, are you causing trouble?” she addressed the cat, opening the door wider in order for her to take Liho. She looked over at the man, “Thanks for bringing him back. He gets into the weirdest places.”

“Not a problem,” the man replied, scratching the back of his neck. “I... uhm, I’m Clint. I live next door.”

“Oh, you moved into Mrs. Anderson’s apartment?”

He shrugged. “Guess so.”

Natasha nodded turning back to her apartment. “It was nice to meet you Clint.”

He nodded. “Nice to meet you too, uh…”

“Natasha.”

Clint turned with a smile on his face. He was no closer to figuring out how her cat ended up in his apartment with all his windows and doors shut,  maybe he would ask next time the cat came by and needed to be returned to his owner.


	2. Liquid Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk dialed/ texted ex/ crush oh hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one. 
> 
> Warning: Tons of daily swear words used. I wanted it to be real.

_Drunk dialed/ texted ex/ crush oh hell_

 

* * *

 

Natasha Romanoff was not used to a man NOT wanting her. Since she developed breasts, she had been the center of attention of every male in her class. Therefore, she had no idea how to act when a guy she was slightly interested in, does not seem that interested in her.

Natasha Romanoff: “WTF, MARIA. WTF.”

Maria Hill: “What?”

Natasha Romanoff: “IS THIS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE?”

Maria Hill: “Working; what does what feel like?”

Natasha Romanoff: “Someone not being interested. WTF.”

Maria Hill: “Welcome to the real world, Nat.”

Natasha Romanoff: “What does it even… I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHY!”

Natasha huffed leaning back on her couch. This was driving her crazy. Aside from the fact that they hung out once or twice before, had mutual friends, _worked together_ , she didn’t know.

Some femme fatale she was.

Maria Hill: “Let’s go out and get drunk!”

Natasha Romanoff: “YES!" 

Because Clinton Barton was driving her crazy.

So she and Maria met up at the bar closer to Maria’s place, ordered a line of shots and took a booth so that men would hopefully leave them alone.

“So what the hell happened?” Maria asked taking a sip of her gin and tonic, an eyebrow raised at her _friend_.

“Okay, so… Barton, right? Had to move out because he’s going to room with Hunter and Bobbi.”

“Right?”

“I slept with him,” Natasha whispered hoping to keep it to herself. “I know I told myself I wouldn’t, but it’s been months and people have needs.”

“You did what now?” Maria asked trying to keep her composure.

 “People have needs, don’t judge me.”

 “He slept with you, and you think he's not interested? How interested do you want him to be?”

 Natasha huffed looking down at her phone. “He doesn’t text, he doesn’t… He just doesn’t. We text maybe once a week since he was sent to New Mexico.”

 “And..?”

 “So I get we just started hanging out and it’s not like we…communicated a lot, I’m just not used to someone not being interested!”

The dark haired woman studied the redhead across from her. "Do you want him to be interested like that?"

"No! Hell no, I just.. what the hell. Nobody has ever..."

 “My life is hard, men always fall for me,” Maria replied sarcastically. Natasha shrugged the last of her long island and called the waitress for another; her sixth that night since she had a couple waiting for Maria to get off work. She wanted all the alcohol. “Seriously, Nat. What’s going on?”

 “I’m just not used to it. I want to know why!”

 “You think Barton isn’t interested? He’s pretty much interested in anyone and anything that has at least B cups and walks.”

 "All his shit is in my apartment,” Natasha mentioned. “I don’t even know what that means but… whatever. He’s not interested, I’m going to move on.”

 “Right,” Maria paused. "So you're not interested in a relationship, but you're confused that he's not interested in one, but want him to be in one. You confuse the shit out of me, Romanoff."

 Natasha took a big gulp of the new drink that the waitress et in front of her.

 “Know what, I’m just going to ask him.”

 “Ask him what?” Maria asked her, a slight panic on her eyes. Natasha had her phone out, typing. “Seriously, Natasha what the hell?”

 “Texting him,” Natasha said her fingers moving overtime on the screen. Maria sat there waiting patiently for her to finish before she heard the typical sent sound and Natasha slid the phone over to her.

 “Hey, how’s that desert?” Maria read the text out. “What the fuck, Natasha, I thought you were typing an essay.”

“I changed my mind. I’m not drunk enough.”

 The message typing bubbled appeared on the screen. “Shit, he’s typing.”

 Natasha snatched the phone from Maria’s hand.

 The typing bubble stopped.

 “Fucking... urgh!”

 “What did he say?”

 “He stopped typing!”

 Her phone buzzed in her hand.

 “Hot,” her phone read. She groaned and dropped her head onto the table. “What. The. Hell.”

 “What did you say to him?” Maria asked.

 “What do you mean?”

 “When you guys had your thing—whatever.”

 “I told him not to be awkward about it,” Natasha admitted. “That we would, letting our frustrations out? I don’t remember, I was drunk.”

 “I’m sensing a pattern here, with the drunk thing. For a fearless assassin, you don’t have any guts.”

 Natasha frowned.  “Shut up.”

 Maria motioned to zip her mouth shut. Natasha rolled her eyes.

 “What should I say to him?”

 “Take a couple of more shots, you’ll figure it out.”

 Natasha nodded her head and met the gaze of the waitress, held up six fingers. “Two for you, four for me.”

 “Remind me to stop going out drinking with you.”

 “But I need you to help get me drunk so I can text him!”

 

 

 


	3. Missed Connections (part 1) : “on the A Train with the sad green eyes - m4w”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by craigslist. (https://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/mis/5721506421.html
> 
> “like a ballerina”
> 
>  
> 
> M,
> 
>  
> 
> How do I reach you?
> 
>  
> 
> R.
> 
>  
> 
> Summary: Clint writes a missed connection post about a redhead he once saw, with the saddest green eyes.

 

“on the A Train with the sad green eyes - m4w”

 

I doubt you’d actually read this, you look like you have other things on your mind. You look like someone who likes plays and classical music, who would scoff at the free furniture I get from this place. (Just so you know, they’re awesome.)

 

I want to ask you why your eyes are so sad, you always seem like you’re in a far away land.

 

So _how do I reach you_ when you’re so far away?

 

CB.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure I'm going to continue this one at some point. I like this prompt.


End file.
